


Not Yet / Why Rush? / Stick With Me

by w_k_smith



Series: Beetlejuice the Musical - Soul Mates AU [1]
Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-22 20:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_k_smith/pseuds/w_k_smith
Summary: Adam and Barbara have been waiting their whole lives for their soul mates. Beetlejuice has given up on his. But even when they finally meet, they may face insurmountable differences that keep them from seeing each other as family.
Relationships: Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland, Beetlejuice/Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland
Series: Beetlejuice the Musical - Soul Mates AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706536
Comments: 8
Kudos: 128





	Not Yet / Why Rush? / Stick With Me

“I have to tell you something,” Adam said, and the quiver of nervousness in his voice put Barbara on alert. In her first hour at Winter River High School, Barbara had noticed the beautiful boy with dark hair and a shy smile, and was struck by the immediate urge to hold and protect him. Three months later, the urge hadn’t faded.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, resolving that whatever it was, it was going to be fine. From the moment they’d touched hands in the hallway, and both felt the spark as their soul marks disappeared, they knew this was forever. That was what being soul mates was all about.

They were sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the town. Their first _date_ date had been when they acted as student chaperones at the school dance, but usually they were happy just spending time together, doing anything or nothing.

Adam took a deep breath. “I have another soul mark,” he said.

Everybody knew someone who knew someone who had more than one soul mark. Few people could agree on what it meant. Some said it was bad luck – that you were doomed to lose one soul mate early. Some very judgmental people said having more than one soul mark meant you were too greedy, sinful, or broken to be satisfied with one person. Well, Barbara knew that wasn’t true.

“I do, too,” she said. She smiled, and saw Adam relax.

They paused, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Count of three?” Adam suggested.

“No time like the present.”

They hesitated, and Barbara found herself laughing uneasily.

“One…” Adam began.

“Two…”

“Three,” they said in unison.

Barbara rolled up her right sleeve, as Adam rolled up his left. Barbara had spent most of her life with her wrist bearing a rosy pink mark…right above the other one. Adam had said that the sky blue one that had disappeared when he touched her hand had been on his forearm, and that was where his other mark was.

Their remaining soul marks matched. Both were moss green starbursts, the same size.

“They’re identical,” Barbara said.

“I’ve never heard of that before,” Adam said.

They crossed arms, and examined their own mark on each other’s skin.

“It must be the same person,” Adam said at last.

“But…that’s good,” Barbara said, as she realized it herself. “That means all three of us will be together. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Adam said. They lowered their arms. Barbara took Adam’s hand.

“I wonder what they’re like…” Barbara said.

*

Mushy stuff like _love_ and _soul mates_ was nothing but bullshit. His whole life, two soul marks had stood out on the side of his neck like bug bites – one blue, one pink. He spared a bitter thought for them as he died, the faceless people attached to the marks who were two in a long line of those who hadn’t shown up for him. They’d abandoned him before they even had a chance to meet. _Yeah, you guys…fuck you guys._

“You’re a human and a demon,” Juno had said once, when he was younger. She was drinking; one of the few things she seemed to like about the living world. “You may be worth something once you die, but for now, you’re useless. To me, and to everyone inside and outside the Netherworld. I wouldn’t make too many connections before your trip downstairs.” She’d looked him up and down. “I don’t think that’ll be very difficult for you.”

 _Fuck you, too, Mom,_ he thought, as everything went black. _See you soon._

Maybe his soul mates were his pallbearers. That way, even in death, they could just keep letting him down.

*

Adam knew better. He really did. And he knew Barbara did, too.

But Adam and Barbara Maitland were so responsible, most of the time, that deep down Adam felt like they deserved to be, well, kind of hesitant. There were only two big things in their life together they had been sure about: getting married, and buying their house. (In fact, when they’d first crossed the threshold of the fixer-upper sitting unloved like a one-eyed dog on the edge of town, they’d both checked their remaining soul marks. Just to be sure.)

Most good things took time. Adam was sure having kids would be a good, good thing for him and Barbara. But fixing up a house took time. And making the perfect crib took time. And wondering if your soul mate was going to show up took time.

So, even though they knew a good handful of people died without meeting their soul mates, knew that life, in general, didn’t offer many guarantees, they couldn’t help but act like they had the time. Partly because they were young, and healthy, and relatively well-off. And partly because of the matching green marks on their arms.

“Should we start trying to have kids?” Barbara asked one day. They were cleaning out the attic to use for storage. She was sitting on a musty couch that had come with the house. Sweat stood out on her neck, and her face and arms were covered in dust. She looked lovely.

“Is that what you want?” Adam asked.

“Maybe, but…”

“What if there’s someone we’re supposed to be waiting for?”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

Adam frowned. “But is that how that works?”

“I know…”

He finished the thought she didn’t say out loud. “But what if?”

*

Hundreds of years passed, in the assed-up way time had of passing in the Netherworld. He let grave dirt cake his soul marks and got on with his afterlife. People died, and died, and died, and after they died they just kept being the worst. They didn’t read the Handbook, and they shat the bed trying to haunt their old homes, and they tried to escape the Netherworld, and it was his job to deal with it.

Yeah, yeah, he had fancy powers and a big-time job working for dear old mom, but hell was hell. And it didn’t matter how nice he was, how mean he was, no one stuck around who didn’t hate him. Netherworld spirits faded, other demons were assholes, and the living couldn’t see him.

Geez, the living. Going on in blissful stupidity. And they didn’t even know how good they had it.

Then the day came when he told Juno where she could shove the job she’d bred him for. And so she put a curse on his name to trap him between life and death. And everything got a lot worse.

But that was fine. Because he had a plan.

*

When the floorboards broke, there was time for a split second of thought.

 _We should have put the floorboards at the top of the list_ , Adam realized.

 _Why do I hear somebody scatting?_ Barbara wondered.

Luckily, things went quickly after that.

*

They could _see_ him. The adorable naïve kombucha-drinking white bread drop-dead-gorgeous Recently Deceased Maitlands were _finally_ aware of the one-and-only Ghost with the Most gracing their sad little house. C’mon, you couldn’t really blame him for planting one on each of them. They were so _cute_.

He didn’t notice the buzzing sensation on his neck until the Maitlands shouted in surprise. Within seconds, they were all staring at each other, and he could see that the splotchy green marks on their arms were now gone.

“It’s _you_?” all three of them spluttered. Three dead assholes, spluttering. What a goddam day.

“How are you our soul mate?” Adam asked.

The disgust in their eyes knocked him back. His faceless soul mates had faces now, and the old feeling of rejection rose from the depths of his mind and wrapped around his thoughts. His hope for maybe, one day, not being crushingly alone sparked and died in a millisecond. The Maitlands weren’t what he’d pictured for his soul mates, but he’d given up picturing anything. Now, here they were, right in front of him, the people who were supposed to be his cosmically determined eternal matches, and they hated him.

Well. So be it. He was already dead inside.

“Is this some kind of scheme?” Barbara asked. Of _course_ she was the kind of person to use a word like “scheme” in conversation, with an indignant set to her jaw. He loved it. He wished he didn’t.

“Noooooooo,” he said, though “scheme” wasn’t the worst word for it. He forced a bright smile. “Let’s kill your new neighbors, soul mates. Whaddaya say?”

*

“I know I said I never wanted to see that awful man in the suit again,” Barbara said, pacing back and forth in the attic. When she touched objects, they moved, but her footsteps didn’t make a sound. “But I’m starting to worry that we haven’t heard from Beetlejuice in a while.”

“Maybe he’s gone?” Adam suggested.

“I bet he isn’t. Would you walk away from your soul mate?” she asked. “Even if they were, you know–” She bit her lip.

“Is it wrong that I miss when we didn’t know who he was?” Adam asked. “I keep thinking – is this what we waited for?”

“And what does his being our soul mate say about us?” Barbara paused, not liking the way the words sounded coming out of her mouth. “Oh – he _did_ really want to help us…”

“Because he wanted something out of it!” Adam said.

“If you had been trapped between life and death for a thousand years, wouldn’t you get a little desperate?”

“I guess I would. Especially if I didn’t have you.”

She smiled at him, took both of his hands, and squeezed them. If nothing else, she was glad she could still hold him. Touching him was as real in death as in life. Though her right arm felt unsettlingly bare… “We can worry about ourselves – and Beetlejuice – later,” she said. “Right now, we have to think about Lydia. That poor girl clearly isn’t in a good place. She’s the one we should go looking for.”

*

Adam wasn’t happy to be handed a severed leg. He was, of course, aware that the leg belonged to a demon, who had been trying to drag a bunch of innocent people to hell, and who Adam admittedly was relieved to see devoured.

Severed limbs were still severed limbs. And Adam couldn’t touch raw hamburger meat without two pairs of plastic gloves. He hot-potato-ed the leg over his shoulder.

He was caught by Beetlejuice’s expression. Beetlejuice had a wicked glean of triumph in his eyes, which Adam supposed anyone would have if they’d finally dealt with their abusive demon mother. But Beetlejuice’s smile softened when he handed the leg to Adam, and Adam realized that it was a genuine peace offering.

He wanted to be angrier at his newer soul mate, because breaking good and saving the household from Juno didn’t erase the entirety of the past week. Adam couldn’t muster anger when Beetlejuice and Lydia hugged goodbye.

*

“It’s wrong that I miss him, isn’t it?” Barbara blurted, unable to keep the thought to herself. She and Adam were levitating across from one another, dusting the top of the living room ceiling fan. The house was a disaster area, but that didn’t mean they could neglect the little things. The Deetzes were all wonderful people, but Barbara worried they weren’t types to clean behind toilets or promptly refill the paper towel rack.

Beetlejuice had left much better than he’d arrived. Barbara and Adam had found another copy of _The Handbook for the Recently Deceased_ in the attic, with an attached sticky note. _Ignore Appendix C – it hasn’t been updated since 1866_.

“I miss him, too,” Adam said quietly. “Although…I still _haven’t_ forgiven him for trying to exorcise you.”

Barbara sighed. “Living again – for a few seconds – clearly gave him a new perspective. To a point. I might give him another chance, if he ever finds it physically possible to apologize.”

“Except he isn’t here.”

“I know.”

Lydia leaned through the doorway. “Delia wants to get rid of the rug outside the master bedroom. Are you guys OK with that?”

“Absolutely not!” Barbara said. “That’s my favorite rug. It’s vintage!”

“And it matches the wallpaper!” Adam said.

“Got it. If she moves it, you’ll put ectoplasm in her shoes.” Lydia left, and Barbara and Adam were smiling again.

“We made do with missing something before,” Barbara said. “I think we’ll find our way to being happy again. Even without Beetlejuice.”

She was disappointed, and knew Adam was, too. They would adjust to their new life, though, or lack thereof, she was sure. She was starting to get used to the idea, that they might never see their soul mate again, might not get a chance to take that chance, when Beetlejuice turned up on their doorstep less than 48 hours after saying goodbye.

*

One of the good things about being dead was never having to apologize. Up until a couple days ago, that had been a big part of his philosophy. He was beginning to reconsider.

“I come to you, hat in hand,” he said, then added: “Not literally. I gave the Stetson to Lydia.”

His dead heart jumped when he saw the Maitlands again. They were cuter than he remembered. He knew why their touch had erased his soul marks. Something long-buried was twisting inside him, yearning for a second chance, for a connection stranger and deeper and different than anything he’d had before. His soul wanted its missing pieces.

Barbara crossed her arms. “Does Lydia know you’re here?”

“Hey, I talked to her before I came to you guys. We’re copacetic. She was pretty happy that she got to impale me, and I told her she’s free to do it again any time she wants. She put a kitchen knife through my hand before I was done talking. I tell ya, that kid has a bright future.”

Adam and Barbara didn’t say anything, and he drew in a deep breath he didn’t need. “Soooooo, we’re soul mates. Things aren’t great between us. And, uh–” This was _hard_. Did nice people do this all the time? “I’m not so good with living world boundaries. I could have taken some time to, you know, think a little more about the situation from your perspective. And I – I – IIIIIIII’m sorry.” He had hoped apologizing would be more comfortable. A Canadian guy had played him on TV, after all.

“You’re sorry for _what_?” Adam prompted.

“For being burning the _Handbook_ and giving you the finger and comparing you to _The Music Man_ and redesigning the first floor and making you hide in the attic and tricking Lydia into exorcising you and all the harassment stuff and letting Big Sandy break the wall. Shit, was that everything?” He paused. “There also might be a blood stain under the nice rug upstairs. Don’t worry; it’s not human.”

“I’m a little worried,” Barbara said.

“That’s fair. So?” He held out both his hands.

Adam and Barbara took them. Nothing sparked or disappeared like the first time they’d touched, but he knew all of them were changing for the better. He himself was already damn near perfect.

*

Barbara had loved summer nights. She couldn’t feel the warmth anymore, but the roof gave a good view of the last rays of the sunset. Charles and Delia were sitting on the porch, occasionally laughing at their own conversation, which Barbara could only half-hear. Lydia darted back and forth in the yard, trying to take picture of fireflies. She was happier than she’d been in months, and had even stopped threatening to run away and join a doomsday cult instead of starting school next week.

Barbara, Adam, and Beetlejuice sat together. Beetlejuice lay with his head in Barbara’s lap, absently strumming a ukulele. Adam was still poring over _The Handbook_ , making notes on a separate pad of paper, because Adam would rather die all over again than write on the pages of a book. Every few minutes, Adam grew wrapped up enough in scribbling down a paragraph that he floated three inches off the roof.

“Penny for your thoughts, Babs?” Beetlejuice asked. He played the ukulele with both hands, but a third arm snaked around and pulled a coin from behind Barbara’s ear.

“I love our family,” she said.

“Me, too!” Adam said, without looking up.

“Our family…” Beetlejuice echoed. Barbara ruffled his hair. “I love you guys,” he said.

A long-awaited feeling of completeness whelmed Barbara, and she looked up to see that the first stars of the night were breaking through the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing the Maitlands. And yes, I know that by real life standards, Beetlands is not necessarily a healthy or realistic relationship dynamic, but Beetlejuice isn't a very grounded musical, and hey, there's nothing like a round of apologizing to turn a fictional villain into a weird family member.
> 
> I'm currently working on a sequel-of-sorts about Asexual!Lydia, so watch this space.
> 
> [Edited later: Aaaaaaaand I hope you were watching! Because the sequel-of-sorts (titled "The Universe is Random") materialized, and is the second (and probably last) work in this series.]


End file.
